


into the new light

by chaosy



Series: tumblr fics [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Proposals, when do i not write fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 21:43:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2204124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaosy/pseuds/chaosy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anonymous sent: if you're still taking promps could you do a draeden proposal? :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	into the new light

**Author's Note:**

> one day, i will successfully write angst. today is not that day. the teen rating is for sex references at the beginning.  
> tumblr: martinisms.tumblr.com

It’s when they hit the year mark that Derek starts looking at rings.

He’s thought about it before, often, thought about it when he catches Braeden laughing unguardedly at something on TV or when she breaks a guy’s arm because he was threatening the pack or when she wakes up in the morning, her eyes soft and her hair falling around her face and all of a sudden he just can’t breathe.

"You’re staring again," Braeden murmurs to him. Their anniversary is technically over, it’s one in the morning, but he’s still counting it.

She let him be romantic for once and they had dinner by the river where the sunset painted fiery puddles onto the grass and the breeze rushed around them, making the food wrap quiver in their hands. He bought her a sleek black new hunting knife with a wicked serrated edge and she bought him a new gun with a pretty, pearly handle.

Derek is sure that he’ll never find a girl this perfect again.

They fucked for  _hours_ , rolling around in bed together until the slightest touch had them gasping and Derek had panted endearments into her neck and Braeden had been so out of it that she hadn’t even teased him about it.

"So what if I’m staring?" he replies back, his voice just as soft. The loft is never really silent, not with the hum from the boiler and the wind outside, but their voices slip underneath it. Tonight, they’re on their own frequency.

Braeden laughs, kisses him slow and rests her head against his shoulder. “It’s cute. I knew you’d be a sap when we first met,” she whispers.

"What makes you think that?" Derek breathes. She laughs at him again, but it’s kind, soft and sweet and his heart aches.

She slips an arm around his waist and sighs, getting comfortable. “You like to act all tough but you’re sweet. You’re a boy next door.”

"I was a mama’s boy," Derek concedes, just to hear her laugh again, because it’s like music. He deliberately doesn’t think about what his mother would’ve thought about Braeden. He doesn’t think about how well they would’ve gotten along and how happy she’d be that he picked "such a nice, strong girl".

Braeden kisses his shoulder because she can tell that he’s thinking about that. “You’re my boy, now,” she tells him. She nods off against his shoulder a few minutes later.

The next day, Derek goes out and buys a ring.

—

It’s not fancy. It’s pretty simple, actually, a nice gold band with two small diamonds in it so she can wear it on jobs without it getting caught on stuff.

He keeps the box stashed behind the cupboard because Braeden is a terrible cook and she’d never go in the kitchen unless it was to raid their pop tart collection. For such a tough person, she’s got an adorable sweet tooth.

He makes plans because he’s a romantic, okay? Not a lot of people treat Braeden the way she deserves and he wants to make this good for her. He picks out a restaurant, a nice place to go for a walk afterwards, considers filling the loft with tea lights but even after all this time he can’t have open flame in his home, so he passes on that.

It all goes to shit, though, when Braeden gets the call.

"It’s a job in Atlanta. Malicious wendigos, a whole clan of them eating their neighbourhood. It’ll be me and some other guys, we’ll pick them off one by one," she explains that evening, once she hangs up.

Derek doesn’t say anything. Atlanta is far away.  _Very_ far away. She’ll be gone for at least two weeks.

"You know you don’t have to ask my permission for anything," he says, resting his nose against her temple. "Do what you want to do."

Braeden sighs, bites her lip and leans against him. “I’m not asking. Let me think on it.”

Derek has told himself he’s a madman for buying a ring, but when this overwhelming desperation for Braeden to stay with him, stay  _forever_  hits him, then he knows exactly why he’s got it.

She decides to go. She packs up a small rucksack with the barest essentials and loads up on guns, knives and poison.

They kiss at the door, deep and wet, and Derek goes, “Stay.”

Braeden blinks at him. “What?”

"Stay," he says, and his voice is more confident. He darts into the kitchen and brings back the box.

"Oh, holy shit," Braeden mutters as he gets down on one knee.

The thing is that he didn’t  _plan_ this, this isn’t a pretty restaurant or a clearing in the woods or a spot by the beach. There are no flowers or candles or soft, tinkly music. And yet, Derek knows that this is the right way, the best way to do it.

"Stay," he says again. "Stay forever. Please. I love you. And I should’ve asked when—"

He’s cut off when Braeden flings herself at him, knocking them both to the floor as she presses kisses all over his face.

"Yes, you big soft dumbass," she whispers, and his heart soars. "Yes."

He kisses her properly and hugs her close. They look like idiots sitting on the floor and Derek feels so light he could fly.

He hides his face in her hair for a moment. “I don’t want you to go,” he murmurs. Braeden kisses him and takes the box from him, flips it open and lets him slip the ring onto her finger.

"I’m not going anywhere," she promises him.

—

About a year later, she says the exact same thing as she slips a ring onto his finger.

Derek smiles and goes, “I know.”


End file.
